


Do I Hear a Waltz?

by airspaniel



Category: Tin Man (2007)
Genre: Dancing, M/M, Memories
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-22
Updated: 2007-12-22
Packaged: 2017-10-19 12:35:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/200902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/airspaniel/pseuds/airspaniel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Memories... light the corners of my mind...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Do I Hear a Waltz?

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted [here.](http://yumemiru-kikai.livejournal.com/15297.html)

The ballroom had been beautiful once, before the time of the Witch, all white marble and jade inlays, and candlelight from column to column; flickering in the sconces and shining in the chandelier.

There had been a chandelier here, right in the center of the room, a gold and crystal behemoth that sent its light dancing through the hall, painting the royal guests with refracted rainbows as they swirled and twirled and waltzed.

Glitch closed his eyes, letting his hips sway and his feet glide in time with music that wasn’t playing. He could almost hear it; the singing violins, the delighted laughter of the Queen as he swept her away, holding her close and spinning her fast and wild.

And Ahamo would laugh. He never was much of a dancer, but he loved to see his wife happy.

Glitch danced alone in the empty ballroom, lost in the happy memories. With a flurry of fancy footwork, he came to a stop in the middle of the floor, lunging to surprise his imaginary partner with a deep dip.

The sound of clapping shattered his concentration and he stumbled, twisting just enough as he fell to land on his backside.

“Might want to work on that ending, twinkletoes. It’s not as impressive as the rest of that was.”

“Haha,” Glitch groused, sprawled on the floor in a decidedly undignified fashion. “You wanna give me a hand here?”

Chuckling a little, Cain reached out a hand, pulling his slightly disheveled friend to his feet. They stood facing each other for a long moment, hands still joined, and Glitch’s face took on a mischievous expression.

“What’s that look ab—" And it was Cain’s turn to be surprised, as Glitch brought their joined hands up and wrapped his other arm tight around him, pulling their bodies close.

“Are you a good dancer, Cain?” he asked innocently, dark eyes wide and sparkling.

“I never had much call for it. At least, not the formal stuff.” Cain was strangely nervous, feeling acutely aware of the warmth of the hand on his back.

“Formal what?” the teasing air had vanished, and Glitch seemed genuinely confused. He took stock of their positions, looking from their hands to Cain’s face and back again. When the idea struck him, his face lit up like the sun. “Were we _dancing?_ I’m a very good dancer, you know.”

Cain smiled warmly despite himself, “So I’ve heard.”

Glitch leaned in, craning his neck over Cain’s shoulder, and the soft pale skin of his cheek rubbed against the tin man’s light stubble.

“There used to be candles everywhere, and everything in the room looked golden, like magic, even though it really wasn’t. And I would dance all night with anyone who would let me, watching the firelight shimmer in their eyes.”

“It sounds beautiful,” Cain sighed, voice a soft baritone against Glitch’s ear.

Glitch turned his head, Cain’s ice-blue eyes burning into his own from scarcely an inch away; so intense that he lost his breath. “It is.”

Then, after a moment, “What was I talking about?”

And Cain couldn’t help it; he lifted his face just a fraction, bringing their lips together. He could feel, through that tender contact, the exact moment when Glitch stopped thinking and started moving on instinct, opening his mouth slightly to let Cain deepen the kiss.

They swayed together in the center of the grand ballroom, Glitch’s arm still tight around Cain and Cain’s hand playing in the soft black curls behind Glitch’s ear.

At length they parted, the pair of them flushed and breathless, fingers still tenderly twined together.

Glitch gazed wonderingly at Cain’s lips, his stormy eyes, and the shiver that ran down his spine had nothing to do with the temperature.

“Cain, I…” he faltered, feeling a broad thumb caress his cheekbone. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“It’s all right,” Cain steadied him with another brief kiss. “I’ll lead, you follow.”

A dazzling smile was his reward. “I’m very good at dancing.”

Cain smiled and kissed him again. “You’ll have to teach me sometime.”


End file.
